A True Friend
by Daniella74xo
Summary: It is a week since the explosion. Neal is grief-stricken over Kate's death. He is unable to sleep, tormented by the constant nightmares of that day. In an attempt to clear his mind, he ventures out into the cold, dark streets of NYC. After he faints, Peter comes to his rescue. This story is about Neal and Peter's incredible friendship and the love they have for one another.
1. Chapter 1

It was Friday night and the streets of New York City seemed brisker than ever before. The cold wind bombarded the already frigid streets like an unwelcome nightmare. The rain plummeted out of the sky as painful as shrapnel. For a bewildered Neal Caffrey, this situation was simply unbearable.

It is a week after the explosion. Not too many days ago, Neal witnessed the love of his life burn to death in a catastrophic plane explosion courtesy of Vincent Adler. Now that Kate was gone, Neal lost all sense of himself. He was numb, shattered, freezing and utterly alone. He was impervious to the reality around him.

-A few hours earlier-

Neal lay wide-eyed in bed, unable to get to sleep. He listened to June's comforting humming coming from downstairs. She always hummed while she tidied the house. However, this time her sweet, melodic voice could not put Neal to sleep. He tried everything from a glass of warm milk to counting sheep. However, he could not get the nightmares out of his mind.

With every blink, he saw the explosion. He felt Peter's comforting yet stern hands as he pulled him away from the fire, he saw Kate vulnerable and alone, vanish before his eyes. He wanted to scream out in terror, but he quickly restrained himself. Feeling boxed in the four walls of his lavish apartment, Neal knew he had to get out.

He stared outside. It was pouring rain and could not have been more than 20 degrees. He didn't care. He knew he had to get out. He sprung out of bed, jumped into his shoes and left without even grabbing his coat on the way out the door.

The weather was tumultuous. He had not been outside for more than two minutes and he was already soaking wet. He crossed his arms around his chest and walked with his head down and his teeth uncontrollably chattering. He didn't know where he was going or what exactly to do next. He just kept on walking.

-Peter is at the FBI-

Peter is sitting at his desk, drinking the bland, bitter Bureau coffee he has become so fond of. He is working on an art forgery case. He has just received a fax from the museum he is aiding. The fax contained pictures of their newest pieces of art. It has come to their attention that one of these pieces is a forgery. Peter stared helplessly at the photos. Each piece looked real to him.

Puzzled, he put down the sheet and immediately picked up his phone. He knew it was late, but he had to call Neal. He needed his help. Peter knew Neal would know. He called him about eight times. Each time, he received no response. _That's so strange. Where would Neal be this late at night?_ He immediately called June.

"Oh hello darling" June's voice was sweet and comforting.

"Hi June, sorry if I woke you, I was just curious, is Neal at home?" Peter was trying hard to mask his concern. He didn't want to worry June.

"Don't worry, you didn't wake me. I'm just doing a little late night cleaning. And yes, the last time I saw Neal he said he was going up to bed.

" That's odd", Peter responded, still trying to keep his composure. I've tried calling him but he isn't picking up."

"He could be asleep. But if you want, I can check for you" June responded. Peter can hear a heightened sense of worry in her voice.

"Yes, I would really appreciate that. Thank you June."

June started up the stairs and finally reached Neal's room. She knocked swiftly on his door. "Neal, It's June. Can I come in? Neal, baby? It's June. Are you awake darling?" There was no answer. "Neal?"

She opened the door and slowly walked inside. "Peter." She said apprehensively. "He's gone."


	2. Chapter 2

Peter thanked June and promised her that he had everything under control. The second she hung up he became frantic. It was already after midnight and there was no word from Neal. Immediately he logged on to his computer and pulled up Neal's tracking data. The screen flashed the name of a street corner Peter wasn't two familiar with. What he did know was that it was quite far. Neal was getting very near to his 2 mile anklet radius.

_Oh no. Neal, what are you doing?_ Peter knows Neal has been quite disoriented since the accident and worries for his safety. He jumps from his chair and runs out of the Bureau's office. Peter specializes in finding Neal Caffrey and making sure he is safe. He knew it was time to do that again.

Neal is still walking. He is so far from home, he has lost all sense of direction. He is freezing. He can't remember ever being this cold before. The rain is relentless and the howling pressure of the wind is insufferable. He crosses his arms tighter and realizes that his mouth is killing him. The chattering of his teeth has severely injured his jaw. His toes and fingers are numb and pounding. He notices that his fingers are turning a pale, sickly green. He is soaking wet, drenched from head to toe. His hair keeps flying in his face from the wind and has to keep uncrossing his arms to brush the hair back to its original position.

He braced the cold and unlatched his arms once again. He immediately reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It was dead. The rain has rendered it useless. He knew it just needed to be dried off however there was no way he could do that now. There was no way he could get help. He wondered if he was developing pneumonia or a case of frostbite. All he knew was that he was in an incredible amount of pain. Every step he took hurt more than the last. He hoped for a miracle, confident that without one, he might just die.

An hour has passed since he ventured outdoors. He can barely stand anymore. His toes are frozen, his legs are numb, and his whole body has been colored a pale shade of green. He feels incredibly weak. Any remaining shred of strength in his body seems to be failing. He feels his head become incredibly heavy, yet light at the same time. His body begin to shut down. He falls. He faints onto the hard sidewalk unable to move a muscle. He is freezing, sick, alone, and scared for his life.

Five minutes pass when Neal is awakened from his dreamy state by the sound of a car door slamming close. Almost immediately he hears a reassuring, comforting sound. It's Peter. "Neal! Neal! Jesus Neal where are you?!" His tracking data shows that Neal is in the vicinity however it is too dark for him to see where he is. "Neal!" Neal is unable to move but says faintly "Peter, I'm over here" His jaw hurts from talking and his throat is practically frozen shut. His words are useless. Peter can't hear him. "Neal! It's Peter. Where are you? Are you okay?" Neal desperately wants to respond but knows full well that he can't.

Neal has practically given up hope until finally he hears the rapid pattering of foot steps approaching.

"Holy crap! Neal! There you are! Jesus Christ what on earth are you ding out he-" Peter's voice is cut off in his tracks.

He did not realize Neal's disastrous state before. He didn't truly understand until now what had happened. He sees Neal on the floor, not moving, freezing to death, and cut up from his fall. He wasn't just being dramatic, he was really in trouble.

Peter runs to his side and immediately picks him up off the floor. Neal is overcome by a feeling of security and genuine relief.

"Don't worry, don't worry Neal. I'm here now. Your going to be okay." Neal hears Peter saying this as he frantically pulls off his own coat and tightens it around Neal.

"Come on, we have to get you to my car." Peter's voice is laced with an all too familiar sense of worry and trepidation. "Dont worry Neil" Peter continued, unaware of the veracity of his statements, "Everything's going to be okay."


	3. Chapter 3

Peter lifts Neal up with all his strength and deposits him in the passenger seat of his car. Peter's car is warm and comfortable.

He takes a few more seconds to straighten him out and make sure he feels at ease. He knows Neal can't move himself. He climbs into the driver's seat and immediately leans over to help Neal.

"Pet—er, Pe—ter, I aam so, so, so-r-ry. Peter." Neal's speech is hindered by the unrelenting chattering of his teeth. He has gained the ability to speak again even though his throat is still killing him.

He hopes desperately that Peter will answer him. However, he does not.

Peter remains silent. Immediately, he goes to the dashboard of the car and raises the heat it's highest setting. Neal is still shivering uncontrollably. Peter continues to ignore Neal's comment. He seems to be rather deep in thought.

He grabs a blanket from the back seat and drapes it tightly around Neal. He is moves his hands up and down Neal's blanketed torso in an effort to create more heat. He knows Neal is still freezing.

The heat felt incredible on Neal's sub-zero degree body. He began to feel unexpected waves of warmth spread, coursing throughout his entire body. Neal sat frozen on the outside. But on the inside, he couldn't help but feel content.

Unfortunately, he was still in pretty bad shape. However, with Peter here, Neal knew he was safe. They waited in silence for a minute as Peter continued to warm him up. Then suddenly he stopped.

He looked right into Neal's eyes and said. "Neal. You could've died." "You actually could have died. Jesus Christ Neal. You never think about your actions or how they..or how they.." Peter's train of thought was halted for a moment. "Yeah um, or how they will affect..the people who care about you."

Peter immediately began to fiddle awkwardly with his fingers and fidget in his seat.

Neal was shocked. How could have been so blind to Peter's feelings? He was never used to this kind of love or attention. Peter was right. He never thought about of how his actions would affect others. Because before he met Peter, he never had a reason to.

Neal mustered up any morsel of strength he had and cleared his throat. "Peter, I. Am. So. Sorry." He pauses in between every word in the hopes that it would emphasize just how sincere he was.

He wasn't simply running off a worn out, clichéd phrase. He truly meant it.

Peter turned to him. Neal thought he saw a tear in his eye but he couldn't be too sure. He braced himself for how Peter would respond.

All of a sudden Neal felt a soothing pressure on his shoulder. It was Peter. He squeezed Neal's shoulder and looked into his eyes once again. "I know you are." "He said. "It's okay, Neal. I know you are."

Neal suddenly felt a much needed sense of warmth from head to toe. he felt Peter's firm, yet comforting, hand still caressing his shoulder, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of affection and relief. Peter was always there for him. No matter what Neal did, how he acted, or how much more complicated he made his life, Peter was always there.

"Peter" Neal said slowly. He disregarded how severely it increased the pain in his jaw.

"Thank you."

Peter's hand was still squeezing Neal's shoulder. But now, it became limp. Honestly, Peter was not expecting that.

He knew Neal would thank him because for a con artist, Neal had an incredibly kind heart and an unbelievable set of manners. However, he still wasn't expecting..that.

The passion and tenderness in his small, gentle voice as he said it, the tears forming in eyes as he looked into his, and the sincerity of his every pain inducing word. _That_ Peter was simply not expecting. He looked up at Neal, paused, and then smiled. Peter's smile was genuine and full of love and admiration. "Of course Neal." He said finally, clearing his throat uncomfortably, "I'm just glad you're okay."

Neal smiled and continued softly. "No Peter. That's not what I meant. Well, at least it's not totally what I meant." He paused. "

"Thank you. Not just for this, but for everything. Thank you for always being there for me. No matter what. I know I don't make your life easier, and that I can be a real inconvenience sometimes." He paused, hesitant to continue. "But you don't care. You are there for me anyway. And that to a con man, well to any man honestly, is priceless."

Peter continued looking up at Neal. "Peter, I had never experienced unconditional love before. And now that I have.. I can't believe how good it feels."

Peter stared, speechless at his trembling CI.

Neal continued. "Honestly Peter, I don't know where I'd be without you." He paused.

Suddenly, he stopped talking and shifted a little awkwardly in his seat. He had monetarily lost sight of his pain. He suddenly remembered how cold he was again. Involuntarily, he shivered violently, his whole body shook as he did.

Peter noticed this.

He had not moved since Neal had started talking. Breaking his dream-like trance, Peter leans over and fixes the vent closest to Neal so that the heat went more directly on him. Then he returned to his original position.

Neal smiled a soft closed-mouth smile. He puts his hands in front of the vent for a few seconds before continuing.

"Peter, you will never understand how much you've done for me. You have been not only an incredibly supportive and encouraging partner, but a loyal, loving, and patient (Neal and Peter both smile after Neal lists this particular trait) friend.

Neal hesitates. This is difficult for him to say.

"You see me as more than just a con man. You treat me like an asset to the FBI, an equal partner, and most importantly a human being." Peter saw Neal begin to relax a little.

"To you, I'm not a criminal, I'm your friend. And for that, I could never thank you enough."

Peter couldn't believe his ears, he sat motionless, shocket at the word's escaping the mouth of this once sly, deceiving con artist.

His heart rushed a sense of warmth and tenderness throughout his body. Neal was his friend. And he was a true friend at that.

Peter cleared his throat. "Thank you Neal. That honestly means so much to me."

Neal noticed the true emotion in Peter's voice. Neal realized that Peter rarely gets emotional. A small, yet beautiful smile began to form on Neal's face.

Peter inhaled and continued. "You don't complicate my life.. you.. enhance it." Peter laughed lightly. "You are one of the reasons I love doing what I do."

"You have helped the Bureau achieve a 94% success rate and have aided in locking up some of the world's most infamous criminals. These are accomplishments the Bureau could only dream about before you came along. I never want you to feel second rate to the other agents at the firm."

"The contributions you make are vital. I treat you like a person Neal, because you are one. Anklet, or no anklet, don't ever forget that." Peter is shocked by his own words. He is not one to get emotional. He feels a little embarassed but knows that for Neal's sake, it needed to be said.

Neal stared at his friend with such love and admiration. He finally felt satisfied.

"Don't worry Neal. You are not alone. You are never alone. I know you are still grieving over Kate's death. But you have to understand. You are never alone. I will be by your side every step of the way. You are going to get through this. We are going to get through this. Together."

Neal wiped a tear that was falling down his check. He felt the uncontrollable urge to hug his friend. To put his arms around him and never let go. He wanted to feel this safe, this happy, this satisfied, forever.

Neal used all his power to fight off this seemingly juvenile urge. However, the desire was unrelenting.

He attempted to brush off the feeling by shifting a little in his seat. It was no use. So it came as no surprise that Neal was incredibly grateful for what Peter did next.

After Neal stopped fidgeting, he felt Peter's warm, affectionate grasp around him.

His whole body filled with a priceless sensation of warmth and affection. He gently reciproacted, putting his arms around Peter too. He squeezed tightly. They both relaxed into each other's arms. They finally felt that incessant sense of lonliness disapate.

While Peter had Elizabth to aid his loneliness, this was quite different. To feel such love towards your partner and your friend was so incredibly rewarding. It was so gratifying to know that they both appreciated each other and that they both needed the other in their lives.

Peter knew that Neal was not a bad person. He simply craved this reciprocation of love and companionship just like everybody else. He suddenly heard Neal stifle a sniffle, masking his tears. At this he squeezed Neal even tighter.

Soon they both loosened their grasp and returned to their original positions. Neal had tears in his eyes.

He turned to the window to wipe his eyes quickly so Peter wouldn't notice. But he did. And he didn't care.

He put his hand on Neal's shoulder and angled him away from the window. He took out a tissue from the glove compartment and put it in his hands.

Neal wiped his eyes. "Thanks."

Peter nodded. "It's okay if you cry Neal. You don't need to hide anything from me."

Neal looked up. "I know that now Peter." He smiled. "I know that now."


	4. Chapter 4

"How bout' we get outta here?" Peter said smiling as he put his hands back on the wheel.

"It's close to 2 and it's getting pretty dark." Peter said rather firmly.

"Yeah, that'd be great" Neal said a little shakily, remembering the pain in his jaw.

Even though about 10-20 minutes had passed, Neal wasn't completely healed. This thought had escaped both Neal and Peter.

He had spent nearly 2 hours freezing to death in the rain. The couldn't be cured with less than 20 minutes of heat.

Suddenly, Neal felt a sharp pain run through his arm. He lifted his sleeve to find a gash covered in dried blood.

_This must have happened when I fainted on the concrete. _He touched it lightly to see if it was still bleeding.

_Ah!_ He threw his head back on the headrest and moaned in pain.

"Neal! Are you okay" Peter looked to Neal frantically. He immediately pulled the car over to the curb and shifted the car into park.

Noticing the gash, he immediately put his hand on Neal's shoulder to relax him.

Neal attempted to fidget with the injury.

Peter winced at the agonizing look of pain on Neal's face. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Don't move, I know what to do."

He paused a moment and stared at his pain-stricken friend. "Don't worry Neal. It's okay."

Neal tried to smile but the pain prevented him from doing so. Peter saw this. He turned to him, put his hand on his shoulder once again and reminded him, "Don't move Neal. It will only hurt more."

Neal was no longer trying to cover up his pain. Suddenly the numb stupor from the cold was wearing off. His whole body began to hurt. He cried out in sheer agony. Peter couldn't bear to see Neal in so much pain. But he knew he had to maintain his composure for Neal's sake.

Neal leaned over in his seat. He figured he should try shifting positions. It didn't help.

He knew Peter said not to move but he couldn't bare it anymore. He had to try something.

"Sorry" Neal said quickly, realizing his mistake.

"Shh it's okay. I understand. It's hard not to fidget. But you have to try." He paused for a moment. "You don't have to apologize Neal."

He put his hand on Neal's back. Neal was still keeled over. He had his hands in between his knees and was swaying back and forth. He didn't know why he was doing this. But he was out of ideas, and frankly, a little disoriented.

Peter began to gently rub Neal's back. He whispered gently "It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay." This greatly relaxed Neal.

However, depsite his seemingly calm composure, Peter was terrified.

He couldn't bare to see Neal in so much pain. He knew he had to do something quick.

Neal continued to sway helplessly.

Overcome with pain, he decided to focus all of his attention into Peter's comforting palm, rather than his pain.

He began counting the amount of times Peter's hand circulated his back. He was at about 24 when suddenly he was distracted by Peter's voice.

"Yes! I knew this was in here."

Neal had noticed Peter rummaging for something in the glove compartment with his other hand through the corner of his eye. He tried to ignore it though because he had to shift his head to the left to see what he was doing and that only hurt his head more.

"At Quantico, they taught us to always be prepared." Peter said as he pulled out a very elaborate first-aid kit.

He rubbed Neal's back a few more times and then took his hand away in order to open up the kit.

"Here we go. I have everything we need. Now please Neal, I know it's hard but you have to sit still. I need to clean these injuries.

_Injuries? Plural?_ Neal noticed then that it wasn't just the gash on his arm. He had a lot of other scars and cuts from his fall as well.

"It may sting a little but you'll feel a lot better after I'm done. I promise."

Neal sat up slowly in his seat and rested his head back on the headrest.

"I trust you Peter." Neal said quietly. He then closed his eyes, bracing himself for what was to come.

Peter smiled and gently squeezed his arm reassuringly.

Within seconds he had begun to work.

He put rubbing alcohol on his wounds, cleaned then and then delicately bandaged them.

Neal tightened his body as Peter skillfully dabbed the cut with rubbing alcohol. He winced each time at the sharp sting. Peter blew on them gently to ease the pain.

"Shh" Peter said comfortingly. He wasn't annoyed. He just wanted Neal to stop tightening his muscles. He knew that was only hurting him more.

He noticed that a few strands of wavy hair had fallen down into Neal's eyes. He brushed them back in a mildly awkward fashion.

"Relax, your doing great. Everything's fine." Peter said, trying to appear more confident than he felt.

It must of worked. For Neal did relax.

By the time Peter was on the third wound, Neal had become more accustomed to the pain. He was already beginning to feel better.

He let his muscles loosen and relaxed more into his seat. He sighed. Despite his many injuries, he felt comfortable and safe.

He trusted Peter and knew he would be okay soon. Peter felt Neal's muscles relax. He smiled. He was glad Neal was feeling better. Also, this made the process a lot easier for both of them.

He looked up at Neal. His eyes were closed and there was a small smile on his face. Peter smiled back even though he knew Neal couldn't see him.

He continued his work more quickly, with incredible precision. Once he was done, he put back the supplies in the glove compartment and cleaned his hands with a sanitizer El had put in the glove compartment just in case.

He looked over at Neal.

His eyes were still closed but he could tell he wasn't sleeping. He was just, relaxed.

"Neal, I'm finished." He gently patted his arm. "Are you feelin' better now?" Neal slowly opened his eyes and turned to Peter.

"Wow. Thank you." He said rather breathlessly, shaking his head.

"I have no idea what you did." He laughed. "But I feel so much better."

He began to loosen his arms and legs by shifting them slightly. He couldn't believe he could move his limbs so painlessly again. He looked up at his friend.

"Peter, thank you." He paused. Peter smiled as he began to rub Neal's arm.

" Of Course Neal." He stuttered, hiding his worry.

"Please, don't move too much. I know your excited but you do need to give those wounds some time to heal. Neal obeyed, ceasing to fidget and straightening himslf in his seat.

"Here" Peter said happily. "I think I have some Advil in here somewhere. You can take that for your jaw and other, non-wound related pain." He laughed.

"Wow, you really are prepared." Neal joked.

"I am a man of my word, Caffrey." Peter replied, reciprocated Neal's joking demeanor.

Neal laughed lightly as he outstreched his arm to accept the pill.

Peter handed it to him with an unopened bottle of water he got from the back seat. Neal swallowed the pill, wincing a little from the pain as he did. His throat still really hurt.

"Neal," Peter said clearing his throat.

"I noticed before that your skin is still cold. I'm worried you might be coming down with a cold or maybe even pneumonia. You know? This is the coldest it has gotten all year." A very paternal instinct began to form in Peter's voice.

Neal nodded. "I know. Just my luck" he said, choosing not to hone in on Peter's rarely utilized tone.

As if on queue, given their current discussion, Neal sneezed repeatedly into his hands. "Uh oh. Sorry, Pete-" Neal sneezed again. This time it shook his entire body.

Peter ran his hands through his pocket hurriedly and pulled out a tissue. He handed it to Neal.

"Here you go. Clean yourself up." Neal did. Peter heard the increased congestion in his voice.

"Wow, you're really sick Neal. You need to relax. And please, don't apologize." He handed him the pack of tissues.

"Here keep this." He put his hand on Neal's shoulder and rubbed. He knew this relaxed Neal.

At this moment, Neal attempted to ignore a familiar impulse. An impusle pressuring him to remain his self-reliant and independent self. To remain cut off from the affections of others for fear that they will be short lived.

Even as a small child, Neal was never truly loved or valued by his parents. His mother was hardly a maternal figure and his father abandoned him before he was even old enough to understand what that meant.

Neal Caffrey had always desired companionship. Despite his relentless fear of abandonment, Neal longed to truly be loved.

Neal looked over at Peter who was staring out the window, still rubbing Neal's shoulder.

At this moment, for the first time in life, Neal let himslef be taken care of.

He leaned his head back on the headrest and let out a small sigh of relief. He began to close his eyes.

Peter truned back to Neal. "Please try to sleep Neal. You'll feel better if you do." He continued to rub his shoulder rhythmically.

Neal shut his eyes. Peter sat patiently, continuing this comforting motion until he heard the soft sound of Neal lightly snoring. He was sound asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

- An hour had passed –

Neal awoke from his deep sleep and moaned as he rubbed his eyes.

He hadn't slept since Kate died. He had forgotten that until now. It felt so good to finally sleep again. He knew that it was because of Peter that he finally could.

He felt safe when Peter was with him. He forgot the pain and the suffering of reality and just felt..safe. He yawned lightly as he finished rubbing his sleep encrusted eyes.

"Hey Neal" He heard Peter say softly. "How'd you sleep?"

"Well," Neal started. His voice less congested. "You were right."

"I was right?" Peter said with a cheerful smile on his face. He was so glad to hear the happiness in Neal's voice.

"What was I right about?"

"Well, I do feel better." He stretched out his limbs and moaned contently.

"So I guess you were right." Neal looked over at Peter, smiled and then began to laugh softly, realizing Peter was unaware of what he meant.

Peter sat puzzled until he finally remembered what he had said to Neal before he had fallen asleep.

"Ooh." He laughed. "I'm glad I was right."

There was a pause. "You know Peter," Neal shifted slightly to a more comfortable position. "That was the first time I have slept since Kate.. well since Kate died. And the first time I actually slept good in months."

Peter was glad to hear this. These past few days Peter had a feeling Neal hadn't been sleeping well but didn't want to ask because he wasn't absolutely sure. He didn't want Neal to be embarrassed.

"No kidding?" He said nonchalantly yet with a very strong sense of interest. "I'm really glad to hear that."

"Well it's thanks to you Peter, so I figured I'd let you know." Neal flashed him a tiny smile.

Peter returned the grin before turning back in his seat and putting the car back into drive. Soon he pulled away from the curb and began to tap rhythmically on the leather of the smooth steering wheel as he did.


	6. Chapter 6

It had stopped raining and the screen on the dashboard indicated that it had even gotten a little warmer outside.

Neal was peering out the window silently as Peter drove. He seemed to be consumed by thought.

"Peter, do you mind if we pull over?" Neal said, suddenly turning in Peter's direction. He paused a little. "I need to stretch my legs."

Neal had been boxed in this seat for too long. After experiencing such a great deal of pain it was impossible to stay in one spot for such an extensive period of time, even if he was feeling better.

It's no doubt that Peter's car was very comfortable and was definitely warmer than outside, but regardless, he needed to get out. Peter understood.

"Yeah, sure Neal. I'll pull over right up there." He pointed a little ways in front of them.

"Thank you Peter. That's perfect."

Peter began to pull over to the curb. "Keep my coat Neal. I have my FBI jacket in the back seat. I'll come with you."

Neal was a little too happy to hear that. He was terrified to be alone and didn't want to have to ask Peter to accompany him.

Turning to Peter, he nodded casually in an attempt to conceal his true thankfulness.

"Wait here. I'll go out first and I'll help you out." Peter exited the car.

Neal imediately realized that this was a very good idea. He hadn't stood since before he fainted and he still felt rather weak. Peter opened the passenger seat door. He took Neal's arm and put it around his neck. Slowly, he lifted him out of the car.

"Are you okay to stand Neal? It's okay if you aren't.." Neal cut him off.

"No I think I'm okay. Just..stay close."

Peter stared at his timid friend. He was strange to him like this, so vulnerable, so overcome by fear and trepidation. "Don't worry" He said slowly. "I will."

Neal slowly started to walk along the sidewalk. He managed to walk slowly, yet effectively. It felt so good to stretch his legs.

Soon he began taking larger, quicker steps. However, this may not have been a smart choice.

He suddenly began to loose his balance. He had been walking for about a half of a block. He didn't know if Peter was still behind him.

He tried unsuccessfully to regain his stability. However, this was no use. With no warning, he began to fall. He braced himself as his feet lost their grounding and he began to plumet to the hard cocnrete ground.

He was not falling for more than a second when suddenly Peter grabbed him pulled him to his chest.

"Don't worry! I gotcha." Peter said, laughing as he straightened Neal in his arms. Clearing his throat, he regained his composure.

"Neal, Are you okay?" Neal's heart began to slow back down to its regular rhythmic beat. He unclenched his body and relaxed into Peter's firm, yet comforting, arms.

"Yeah, I'm okay now. Thanks."

"Of course" Peter responded almost immediately. He paused. "Neal you're still very weak. I'll help you stand." Slowly he helped Neal regain balance and stand on his feet. He put Neal's arm back around his shoulder.

"We'll start to walk back to the car. Lean on me." Neal did.

Once they were back, Peter helped Neal back into his seat and then got into his.

"Thanks Peter. I know I couldn't really walk too far. But still, I really needed that."

"I'll bet." Peter smiled. He put his hand on Neal's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Feel better now?"

"Yeah, I really do."

Peter smiled and replied softly "Good.. that's good."

They both sat back in their seats. Peter took off his FBI jacket and returned it to the back seat. Neal continued to sit up, staring out the window.

"Oh Neal, I almost forgot!" Peter said with excitement.

"I don't if you are up for it or not but right before I left the office, I was working on this art forgery case I just got. I really need your help with it. It's okay if you want to look at it lat-." Peter was cut off.

"Oh awesome, could I see it? Do you have the papers with you?" Neal's entire face brightened.

Telling Neal about an art forgery case was like telling a small child they're taking them to Disneyland.

Peter laughed. "Yeah, I have them right here." He was so glad to see that Neal was feeling better again. "Here you go." He handed him the sheet of art pieces that he had been so puzzled by just a few hours earlier.

"Apparently one of these pieces is a forgery. It's impossible to know which one. I tried to figure it out for hou-."

"It's the second one from the top." Peter was caught off guard.

"What?" He inquired.

"It's the second one from the top." Neal repeated. The Picasso. This one." Neal pointed. "It's a forgery." He said this in such a cool, confident, yet not at all conceited, Caffrey-like demeanor. Peter couldn't help but smile.

Neal continued. "The pigments used are too deep. They are not authentic. Also, the carving is too blunt. The lines are not delicate or graceful enough to be a true Picasso." He shifted a little and began to inspect it closer. "The forger is incredibly talented, it's just not a genuine Picasso. He looked up and handed the sheet back to Peter.

No matter how many times he did that Peter will continue to be impressed. Neal had an incredible talent that was priceless to the Bureau.

"You never cease to amaze me Neal, you know that?

." Peter said laughing as he took the sheet from his outstretched arm. Neal laughed.

"Likewise." he said, smiling cooly.

The two men continued to talk about Picasso, art forgery, and other various topics for twenty minutes straight. They just talked, joked, and laughed, letting all of their problems dissipate into the cool winter's night.


	7. Chapter 7

They had finished their conversation and now sat back in their seats in peaceful silence.

Peter tapped a tune on the steering wheel as he drove, while Neal lay back in his seat calmly. He began to close his eyes. He felt more relaxed than he had felt in weeks.

About ten minutes passed when suddenly, Neal sat up abruptly in his seat.

He had felt a very severe discomfort coming form his left ankle. He lifted his pant leg and saw that underneath his tracking anklet was a small, yet rather gruesome, scar.

He remembered that after he had fallen he had found a sharp twig that had lodged itself underneath his anklet. Disoriented, he had simply thrown it away and forgot about it. Apparently, it had scratched him upon impact. The scar was small enough that he hadn't really felt it until now. But now that he had, it was unbearable.

He tried to get his hand underneath the anklet but it was not use.

"What's the matter, Neal?" Peter asked as he glanced from the road for a second. "Did you drop something?"

"What? No. Umm.." Neal contemplated whether or not to tell Peter. He didn't want to put him in that situation. Neal knew that Peter was never allowed to take off Neal's anklet unless Neal was going undercover and the Bureau approved it.

He knew Peter could unlock it. He had the key. He just wasn't sure if he wanted him to.

The pain was getting worse and Neal tried his best to conceal it. He knew Peter wouldn't want him to be in pain. He knew he would inist upon taking off the anklet, even though there is no way he is allowed to. Neal didn't want to jeopardize Peter's job and responsibility to the Bureau in any way. However, he couldn't live with the pain anymore.

Most importantly, he had to tell him the truth. He couldn't lie to Peter. "Umm.. I noticed that I got a little scratched underneath my anklet." Peter looked over again and saw that Neal was desperately fidgeting with the metal band.

"When I lost balance before, a twig got stuck underneath, and then when I fell it must have scratched me. It just started to hurt. It stings a little, it sort of itches. But that's all. I'm sure it's fine." He hesitated.

"It probably just needs some time to heal and then it will go away.." Neal's sentence was stopped short.

A sharp twinge ran up his entire leg. Neal winced severely, throwing his head back in pain. He couldn't keep it in. He tried to pretend like it was nothing, but it was nearly impossible.

Peter noticed this. He was horrified.

Immediately, he pulled over to the curb and put the car in park. He pulled Neal's hand away and lifted his pant leg.

"Jesus Christ, Neal!" It was not a scar. It was a gash. The twig had lodged itself deep into Neal's ankle. It had begun to bleed profusely, aggravated from Neal's incessant fidgeting.

"We have to take this off of you!" Peter said frantically as he motioned at the anklet.

"No, Peter it's okay." Neal said trying to blink back the warm tears already forming in his bright blue eyes.

"No Neal, it's not okay! You're gonna bleed to death."

"Peter, I'll be fine. I can't put your job in jeopardy. I just..can't."

"Neal! This is much more important than my job. _You_ are much more important than my job!"

Neal's eyes left his injury and looked up at Peter. "You're in pain Neal, and I'm going to help you."

Neal was at a lose for words. This didn't happen often. He stumbled to speak and stuttered slightly as he did.

"Th.. thank you." Immediately, Peter put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the key.

He took the key and without delay released him from his anklet. Neal breathed a sigh of relief.

Peter gently patted him on the back. "Neal, it's going to be okay. I promise."

He took out his first-aid kit, and cleaned and bandaged the wound as precisely as he had done the others.

"Ah!" Neal exhaled loudly. Neal's voice was shaky and trembling. "Thank you." He paused. "It doesn't hurt anymore and the pressure is gone." He began to move his foot around, taking pleasure in how good it felt.

Peter was smiling when Neal looked up. "I'm glad you feel better." There was a momentary pause.

Neal looked up apprehensively. "I'm so sorry you had to do that Peter." Neal looked down at his foot again. He felt to guilty to look back up.

"Neal" Peter said comfortingly. "I didn't _have_ to do anything. I _wanted_ to."

Neal raised his head up again and stared at Peter. Peter smiled before reverting his eyes back to the road.

"Are you okay now, should I keep driving?" Peter asked patiently.

"Yeah" Neal replied. "Sounds good to me."


	8. Chapter 8

It had started raining again. Not as heavily as before.

They were silent for a few minutes, sitting peacefully as they listened to gentle pattering of rain on the windows.

Neal looked down at his anklet-free leg. He wasn't use to it. The only time he wasn't wearing the anklet was when he was doing an undercover mission for the FBI. Just sitting in the car without it felt foreign. It didn't feel bad, it just felt-different.

"Peter" Neal said tentatively.

"Yeah" Peter said glancing at him for a second before turning back to the road.

"I know you said it wasn't a problem but I just wanted to thank you again. He paused.

"I know how much trouble you could get in for taking off my anklet. I just.. I need you to know how grateful I am that you did." He rubbed the bandage on his ankle. It didn't hurt, he was just occupying himself as he spoke.

"Seriously Peter, thank you." Neal said sheepishly, continuing to fiddle with the bandage.

Peter smiled softly. "Don't mention it." He said, his eyes still staring out into the dark road. "I'm glad you're okay."

The love and sincerity in Peter's voice created a unfamilar lump in Neal's throat. He swallowed hard but couldn't manage to rid himself of it.

Peter paused. He continued to tap the steering wheel lightly. "You don't understand how much I worry about you Neal, and how unbearable it is for me to see you in pain." He hesitated. "Now you let me deal with the Bureau. If anyone questions it, I'll tell them the truth. My job is to help those in need. My responsibility is to keep you safe. Whatever I have to do to accomplish that, I will do."

He voice became more confident. "If the Bureau has a problem with that, they can take it up with me." He paused again.

"Neal.." Neal looked up at him obideiently. "Promise me your not going to worry about that. Please, promise me."

Neal stared at Peter. "I promise." he said immediately.

"Don't lie to me Nea-." He was cut off.

"I never lie to you. Peter."

There was a small pause. "You know that."

Peter chuckled and rubbed Neal's shoulder a few times. "That's true." He said still smiling. "I do know that."

Neal stared back down at his ankle. "I guess you can put it back on now. It probably shouldn't be off for too long."

"No Neal. I'll put it back on later. It's okay. Your leg is still healing. The anklet will apply to much pressure to it and it's already sore. You'll just be in pain." Peter seemed to flinch. He cleared his throat. "No. I'll put it back on later."

"Alright, later is good." Neal said as he laughed softly.

"I'll bet." Peter said with a smile.

They both laughed for a while before they resumed their conversation about the art forgery case. Neal found himself staring at Peter as he watched him talk.

He thought back to something he had said not to long ago. Out of all the people in his life, from Mozzie to Kate, Peter was the only person in his life he trusts.

That statement still rang true today. He stared at Peter and realized suddenly that he never felt more safe or more comfortable than when he was with Peter.

Peter was the only person Neal could confide in. He was the only person in the world Neal could truly trust.


	9. Chapter 9

"Wow we've been driving for quite some time now. You really got pretty far Neal." Peter laughed looking over at his rather embarassed partner.

"Yeah sorry about that." Neal said flashing his usual sweet, innocent smile.

Peter smiled back. It was then that Neal realized just how long they had been out for. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Hey Peter do you mind if we stop again?" He looked up at Peter. I really need to go to the bathroom." He paused. "I promise it'll just take a minute."

"Oh yeah of course." Peter said immediately. "I know there's a rest stop coming up. We can stop there."

"Oh okay good. Thank you." Neal's voice sounded soft and gentle.

"Of course Neal. You can relax."

Neal was confused by Peter's second comment until he noticed that his leg was shaking quite rapidly. He wasn't really sure why. He wasn't nervous. So he stopped.

A minute later they arrived at the rest stop. Neal took off his seat belt and turned to leave the car.

As he lifted his left leg, he remembered his anklet was still off. His leg began fidgeting involunatrily again. Maybe he was nervous.

He looked back at Peter who was sitting in his sit patiently. He didn't seem to notice.

"You're not coming?" Neal questioned Peter.

He seemed surprised. "No, I'm okay. Why? Do you need help getting out of the car?"

Neal looked back down at his anklet-less leg and then back up at Peter. "No, I don't.." He hesitated. "It's just that..I still don't have the anklet on." "You know" He said quickly. "It's alright I can just go later." He moved his leg back away from the door. "It's not a problem."

Peter cut off his rant. "Neal..stop." He laid his arm firmly on his shoulder, smiling. "Please, go to the bathroom." Peter chuckled.

"I don't care about the anklet" He continued. "I want you to be okay." Peter lightly squeezed his shoulder.

Neal stared up at him. Peter could see the gratitude in Neal's widened eyes.

"Oh okay." Neal shifted in his seat. "You're sure you don't want to come?"

Peter smiled again and put his hand back on Neal's arm. "Neal, I trust you."

Neal couldn't believe his ears. He always knew that he trusted Peter but to hear that Peter trusted him, that..that..was unconceivable.

Peter realized this.

Neal just sat there in shock, overcome by sheer happiness and appreciation. Peter's hand was still on Neal's arm. He squeezed it gently as Neal sat immobile in his seat.

Soon, Neal's mind resurfaced. He looked up, almost bewildered.

"Neal?" Peter smiled. "Don't you have to go to the bathroom?" Peter laughed, returning his hands to the wheel and tapping rhythmically once again.

"Oh right." Neal said smiling. He was slightly embarassed. Slowly, he moved his legs back to the door. "I'll only be a minute" he assured him.

"Please, take your time." Peter responded nonchalantly. "Don't rush at my expense." He was still tapping away amusingly at the wheel.

Neal walked out of the car.

Before he shut the door he looked inside to Peter. "I'll be back." He said gently. Peter looked up from the wheel and into his friend's ever-calming blue eyes. "I know you will be." He said calmly. "I know you will be."

Neal smiled and closed the car door. Peter glanced at Neal for a second before turning back to the wheel and continuing his song. He was now humming along with the beat. He found this to be quite entertaining.

Neal took a few steps away from the car. He was alone, anklet-less. Free. Able to do whatever he wanted.

He was free to jump on a plane and fly to any island in the world, free to rob that museum a few blocks down and never look back. Honestly, Neal was free to do whatever he pleased.

Most importantly, Neal was free to do what he does best, run. He was free to run as far as he could and for as long as he wanted knowing no one would no where he was. No one. _But he didn't_.

He didn't run, he didn't flee. No. He had no desire to. He did not want to run anymore. He loved his life here. With Peter, Elizabeth, Mozzie, June, the Bureau. But most importantly, with Peter. Peter gave him this life. This opportunity to be someone other than a criminal. To be treated like a valued human being, just like everyone else.

No. Neal Caffrey, renowned bond forger and con artist, did not wish to run anymore.

He left the rest stop feeling a lot better. He walked more confidently and more comfortably back to the car. He knew where he belonged and from this moment on, he would never forget.

The wind had picked up speed. He hugged Peter's coat tighter around himself. He walked slowly back to the car trying hard not to be swept to the concrete by the howling pressure of the wind. He was still a little weak so this was a little harder to combat than usual.

As he got closer to where Peter had parked, he looked out to the curb. There Peter was, sitting in the car, still tapping away at the wheel. He noticed that Peter was also humming. From the street he could already envision Peter's inharmonious tune. He couldn't help himself from laughing as he starred at his sweet, yet somewhat musically challenged, friend.

He finally made his way back to the car and tapped lightly on the window when he got there. Peter smiled when he saw him. He never thought Neal would run. It just felt good to know that he was in fact correct.

He immediately unlocked the door and motioned for Neal to come in. Neal opened the door and climbed into the car.

"Hey" He said slowly. "I feel so much better. Really. Thanks for stopping." He straightened himself out in his seat. "Don't mention it Neal. Anytime." The two friends smiled at each other. They had put a great deal of trust in one another. And both of them, without fail, had reciprocated this trust.

"So what song were you working on there?" Neal asked with a playful laugh as he refastened his seat belt. "Just a little "Don't Stop Believing" By Journey. He smiled. It's not going too well though" he confssed with a little laugh.

(Sorry to interrupt the story but I got the idea to do "Don't Stop Believing" from an interview of Matt and Tim on the today show where they actually sing a little from the song. It's adorable. Matt hits this insane high note and I literally almost cried from how incredible he is lol. Anyway, it's awesome. Here's the link: watch?v=1QLajOx6RzE You should definitely go watch it if you haven't already or even if you have haha. Sorry again for interrupting this is really unprofessional lol. Anyway, enjoy!)

They both laughed blissfully at Peter's sweet, yet incredibly factual, comment. "Here maybe I can help you with that." Neal said, still laughing.

Ever since Peter had heard Neal sing "Many A Splendored Thing" with June by the piano at their "dinner party", Peter has always admired his voice. However, Peter could not get him to sing often.

"Alright" He said happily. "Let's give it a try".

Peter tapped the beat on his wheel and hummed the instrumental, while Neal sang. It actually sounded pretty good. They both laughed upon realizing that.

Peter adjusted himself back in front of the wheel and said with a smile, "W better get going or we'll miss our concert."

Neal laughed as he turned his head to stare out his window. "Yeah" He relpied still smiling. "Our fans would be so disappointed." Peter chuckled, put the car back in drive, and continued on their way.

Neal felt the gentle movement of the car as Peter glided the vehicle back onto the road. He suddenly felt incredibly calm and relaxed as he did so.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back comfortably. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy.

With all the hardship in his life right now, this is exactly what he needed. A friend, that no matter what, was always there for him. A true friend that regardless of the situation, could always make him feel better. With Peter, he always felt safe, valued, and loved. This was a feeling he never even knew existed before.

Neal sat up smiling at Peter.

"What?" Peter laughed, as he stared at Neal's contagious smile.

"Well Peter, I guess you're 3-0." Neal laughed leaning his head back on the headrest.

Peter began to laugh too after understanding Neal's joke. This was the third time Peter had found Neal. They both knew it wasn't exactly the same situation given the fect that this time, Neal wan't trying to escape. However, the sentiment was still sweet.

"Haha, well what do you know? I guess you're right." Peter responded playfully.

"Come on Caffrey, you're making it too easy." He gently squeezes Neal's should before looking back to the road.

Neal laughed at this comment. "I guess I just don't feel like running anymore." Neal closed his eyes and rested his head back on the head rest.

Peter looked away from the road. His eyes fell on Neal, resting peacefully in his seat. He was overcome by a welcoming sense of happiness.

"Yeah" Peter responded. Unable to conceal the widening smile on his face. "I guess not."

Neal relaxed into his seat. He began to focus his wandering mind on the soothing heat as it surged from the car's vents. He felt the warmth rush through him and sighed as he felt it course gently throughout his veins. The heat lingered in his body, keeping him warm even after a new pulse of heat had already begun to escape the tiny vent.

Neal decided to sleep again.

He shifted in his seat contentedly and smiled as he let the soft sound of Peter's taps on the wheel help him drift to sleep.

Peter looked over at Neal. He had been doing this all night periodically, and very discretely, in order to make sure Neal was okay. Yes, Neal had assured him that he was alright but Peter continued to do so regardless, just to be sure.

Neal was sound asleep, breathing almost melodically as he slept. As he looked over at Neal, he suddenly felt a deep sense of happiness and relief.

As he watched his resting friend, Peter noticed that Neal was smiling. Sound asleep, Neal could still make Peter happy.

As Neal slept, this little smile remained in tact. It was a smile so tender and so gentle, that Peter couldn't help but smile back.


	10. Chapter 10

Neal awakened roughly an hour later. His deep sleep had been interrupted by a firm squeeze on the arm. It was Peter.

"How long was out?" Neal inquired blinking away the sleep from his slightly pink eyes. He nose was still stuffed and his voice was slightly congested.

"About an hour." Peter replied in a soft whisper. His eyes were fixed on Neal.

Neal's expression seemed disoriented and his eyes projected an unfamiliar sense of bewilderment..and fear.

Neal noticed his staring and immediately turned his glance to the window. He knew why Peter was staring and didn't want him to start asking questions.

Without delay, he rubbed his eyes, attempting to cleanse himself of this peculiar demeanor.

Peter was confused. However, he knew Neal had been through a lot today and was probably just tired.

He chose to ignore this abnormality. It was clear Neal didn't want to discuss it.

Peter cleared his throat. "Well, we're here." He said, still whispering.

Neal looked up to see the familiar view of June's lavish home.

Peter continued. "June called while you were asleep. She wanted to check up on you. Make sure you were okay."

"That's sweet." Neal said, smiling. "Did she want to talk to me?"

"Well, she didn't want me to wake you." He paused. "Neal, she wanted me to tell you that she had to leave."

Neal's eyes widened, acquiring a new found sense of fear and worry.

"What? Why?" He asked almost immediately.

"Don't worry. Everything is okay now." He paused. "Remember June's granddaughter, Samantha, the one who needed the kidney?"

"Yeah" Neal replied hesitantly, his blue eyes still racked with grief.

"Well, her parents had to go out of town suddenly to meet with a doctor. They asked June to watch her while they were gone. They were too afraid to leave her with just anyone."

"Oh" Neal exhaled. The grief dissipating from his stare. However, now a new sense of childlike sadness began to fill his bright blue eyes.

"So, June isn't home?" Neal inquired, even though he was smart enough to know the answer.

"No, she isn't." Peter hesistated. "Neal, do you want me to stay with you until June gets back. I don't think it's safe to leave you alo.."

Neal interrupted him in his tracks. "No. Please, don't worry about me. Go home to Elizabeth. She must be worried sick."

Neal's stare had fallen to his fingers, which had begun fidgeting on his lap

"Neal, it's okay. I can stay. I talked to El. She even asked me if you would want to come home with me. El makes a mean chicken soup." Peter laughed, but they both knew the offer was sincere.

Neal's eyes raised from his lap and fixed themselves on Peter's worried gaze. "Tell Elizabeth thank you. But seriously, Peter, I'm much better now. I'll be fine."

He flashed him a sweet smile in an attempt to convince him that he was truly okay.

It didn't work.

"Alright, if you're sure." Peter said tentatively. "At least let me help you upstairs. Your probably still a little weak."

Neal nodded slowly. "Alright, but it's not necessary" He said trying to hide the relief in his soft, congested voice.

Peter had taken care of Neal all night. He spent hours worrying about Neal and making sure he was safe.

Whether Neal needed his help or not, he didn't want to worry him any more.

Neal wasn't a child. He was an adult and it was time he started acting like one. Neal could fend for himself. After all, before Peter came along..he always had.

"I'm going to get out first and help you out." Peter said gently, elevating his soft whisper to a slightly more audible tone.

He immediately exited the car and opened the door to the passenger side. Very carefully, he placed Neal's arm around his neck and lifted him from the car just as he had done only a couple of hours earlier.

Slowly, they walked in, padded up the stairs and entered Neal's apartment.

"I got it from here. Thanks." Neal said as he loosened himself from Peter's arms and let himself fall onto the couch.

Neal's exhaustion was apparent. He was barely keeping his eyes open and every word took him twice as long to say than usual.

Peter noticed this. Unfortunately, Neal did not.

"No. I'm not leaving yet." Peter said firmly. "You're not even in pajamas. You can't wear those clothes to sleep. They're dirty and still a little wet. You're fighting off a bad cold."

Neal looked up. He wasn't sure whether to feel touched or annoyed by Peter's protective instinct. He chose to feel both.

"Ughh" Neal groaned, attempting to mask his first emotion. "Fine. Whatever."

Peter rolled his eyes, but was unable to fully conceal a slight smile forming.

Peter walked to Neal's room and pulled out sweat pants and a t-shirt. He presented them to Neal.

"Noo" Neal moaned childishly. "I never wear those. I'll look ridiculous."

"No one's gonna see you but me." Peter said, tossing the clothes to Neal.

"Personally, I like this better than those ridiculous fedoras and thousand dollar suits you're so fond of." Peter joked, taking a seat next to Neal's slumped body on the couch.

"All the more reason not to wear it." Neal joked, taking a pillow and covering his face.

"Ha ha, very funny. Alright come here. You have to go to sleep, you're only getting sicker."

Peter helped Neal get undressed and put on the pajamas.

"You look fine." Peter said, admiring his work.

He laughed to himself, thinking it was harder to get Neal dressed than even the most rambunctious of toddlers.

Neal wasn't happy with the outfit, but he didn't protest.

"Thanks." He said quietly. "I guess I'll go to sleep now." Neal stumbled as he turned to his bed.

Peter immediately jumped up from the couch and grabbed his arm. "I'll help you" He said, his voice gentle, yet laced with distinct concern.

Again, Neal didn't protest.

He helped Neal into bed and then reached for the covers.

"Ooh, you're gonna tuck me in?" Neal laughed.

"Yeah. What are ya gonna do about it?" He said jokingly. "How bout' you try zipping that mouth once and a while, tough guy" Peter said with a chuckle, as he lifted up the covers and tucked them around Neal.

Neal smiled softly, not saying anything. He just stared up at Peter.

Peter sat down on the edge of the bed next to Neal. "Alright, now this time, don't go taking any late night walks. Okay? Go to sleep, and stay asleep."

There was silence for a while, Neal never wavering from his glare. His calm blues eyes seemed even brighter, and one of them seemed to twinkle ever so slightly.

"I will, Peter" he said slowly. "Thanks".

Peter squeezed his arm reassuringly before getting up from the bed. "Don't mention it."

Peter began to walk away from the bed, but turned around abruptly in his path.

Neal noticed his hesitation. "I'm okay now Peter, honestly."

"Okay." He paused. "Good night, Neal" Peter said as he picked up his coat.

"Night' Peter. Bye."

Neal heard the door shut. Or..heard it open, maybe? He wasn't entirely sure. His mind was no match for his sleep-deprived body.

Within seconds, Neal was fast asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

"_Aaaah! Aaah no! Please no! Don't take my Katee!"_

Neal's screams were shrill and near deafening.

"_Katee! I'm here! Don't leave me now! Please! You can't leave me now!"_

Peter jumped up from the couch in sheer terror. He had fallen asleep there, reluctant to leave Neal on his own.

He sprung from his seat and immediately ran to Neal's side.

Neal was tossing and turning violently. His breathing was becoming quicker and his heart was beating so loud Peter could swear he heard it.

"Neal, Neal! It's okay! Shh. It's me. It's Peter. I'm here. It's okay!" Peter said breathlessly.

He firmly placed his hands on Neal's shoulders, attempting to stabilize him.

But it was no use.

Neal's eyes were sealed shut and the terrifying shrill in his voice only increased.

"_Kateee! Kateee!" _His nightmare induced screams continued.

Neal's heart rate was speeding up and his breaths were becoming more pained. Before Peter could think of what to do next, he noticed Neal begin to gasp for air, still kicking at the covers.

Neal was having an incredibly difficult time breathing.

He appeared to be experiencing a mild panic attack.

His throat was closing and his breaths were rapidly decreasing. His face began to turn a faint blue color.

Peter immediately tore the covers from him so he would stop struggling. Then he lifted him to a seated position and shook him gently, yet firmly.

"Neal! Neal! It's me. You're okay. Calm down. Please, calm down." His voice was trembling uncontrollably.

He had his hands firm on Neal's shoulders, stabilizing him.

"Breathe! Neal, breathe.." Peter continued. "Neal calm down, it's okay." He began stroking his shoulder gently.

"Please, Neal! Peter's voice became shaky as the tears welled in his eyes. "You need to breathe!"

It was no use.

Suddenly, the kicking stopped.

Neal's heart rate began to slow down, and suddenly, his few breaths stopped altogether.


	12. Chapter 12

Peter's heart stopped.

_Crap. Crap. He's not breathing. He's not breathing._

Peter immediately began CPR.

Neal's body felt limp and lifeless. He continued this for a few minutes.

However, to Peter, these minutes felt like the longest of hours.

Peter was shaking and scared to death. But he didn't stop.

Roughly one minute later, his persistent efforts proved victorious.

Neal's eyes shot open and he began to breathe. Gasping for air and coughing fervently.

Peter was overcome with a sense of true relief. He smiled, immediately placing his hands back on Neal's shoulders.

"Good Neal. Just breathe. I'm here, Neal. Don't worry. Everything's gonna be okay."

He squeezed Neal's arm and continued. "Breathe Neal. There you go. Breathe.."

Neal was taking in air slowly now. His heart rate appeared to be stabilized and the color had returned to his face.

Peter gently rubbed his shoulder, amazed at his friend's unrelenting strength and vitality.

However, Neal was still shaking uncontrollably.

He teeth were chattering and his eyes were vacant, full of fear.

Peter stared at his trembling friend.

He couldn't bare to see him like this. He wanted to be able to comfort him. He wanted to be able to make the fear go away.

Immediately, Peter threw his arms around his shaking friend and embraced him tightly.

"I knew you could do it, Neal. I knew you'd be okay." He felt Neal's body relax and his trembling slow down.

"Just keep breathing." He said smiling "Just keep breathing.."

Before long, Neal had stopped shaking and his breathing was back to normal.

Just as Peter was going to sit back up, Neal suddenly pulled his own arms tightly around Peter.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until suddenly a faint voice was heard.

"Thanks for not leaving me." Neal said slowly, his voice slightly trembling.

A large smile formed on Peter's face. He hugged him tighter.

"Neal, you know I'd never leave you." Peter said, truly touched by his friend's words.

Neal's head had been buried in Peter's shoulder.

Immediately, he looked up and smiled slightly at Peter.

"Yeah, I guess I did know that" he responded slowly, meeting his friend's unwavering gaze.

Soon, they loosened their grasp and sat upright on Neal's bed.

Peter stroked his shoulder gently. "Neal" he said, making eye contact with his slightly disoriented friend. "I think you had a panic attack."

Peter suddenly lost sight of Neal's widened blue eyes.

Neal shook his head immediately and stared down at his hands.

"Neal" Peter said again, softer this time. "I'm sure of it."

Neal looked back up at him but said nothing.

"Neal, you're okay now. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're still grieving from a tremendous loss. Stress has a way of getting to ya. It gets to everybody."

He paused. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. But I need to understand what's going on so I can help you."

Peter placed his hand back on Neal's arm firmly, before Neal could look back down at his hands.

"Before you stopped breathing," He said slowly. "You were shouting for Kate."

Peter continued, neither awaiting nor expecting a response.

"Is that why you wandered outside, because you're having nightmares about Kate and the explosion?" Peter's words were firm yet sincere.

"Is that why you were scared when I woke you up earlier in the car?"

Neal was silent for a moment. He just stared into Peter's gentle gaze. Then, before he could try to stop himself, he felt warm, stinging tears run down his cheek.

He just stared at Peter, his eyes glistening.

Slowly, he nodded his head, unable to speak.

Peter watched silently as the tears formed in his friend's bright blue eyes.

Neal laid his head on Peter's shoulder, no longer stifling his tears.

"Oh Neal. Oh don't cry, bud. It's okay, it's okay."

He began rubbing Neal's back. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Peter's words broke Neal's heart.

"What?" Neal said slowly, lifting his head abruptly to look up at his friend.

His voice was trembling, but you could hear the apparent concern.

"You didn't make me cry. Adler did. The explosion did. The nightmares did." He paused. "Kate did."

Peter looked up at him. "Oh" he said immediately, his voice laced with relief.

"Don't worry, Peter" Neal said, shaking his head. "You could never make me cry" He smiled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Peter began rubbing his back again rhythmically.

"I hate crying" Neal said abruptly, still smiling.

"Now I look even more ridiculous." He joked, motioning to his outfit.

Peter laughed as he reached to the table beside Neal's bed and retrieved the box of tissues.

He pulled out a few and handed them to Neal.

He accepted the tissues and wiped his eyes slowly. He didn't mind crying in front of Peter anymore.

If it were anybody else beside him, he would have died from embarrassment by now.

But with Peter, it was different.

Peter moved closer to Neal and began to talk slowly.

"Neal, you know you can't just avoid sleeping for the rest of your life. You need to deal with your emotions if you're ever going to move past them."

He cleared his throat. "I know El has a really good friend who is one of the best therapists in New Yo-."

Peter's suggestion was cut off.

"No." Neal said immediately. "I can't talk to a therapist, Peter. I can't just talk to some stranger about my private life. In fact, I don't talk to anyone about my feelings..ever."

"Well, you can't just go on like this" Peter said, sighing dejectedly.

But then suddenly he had an idea. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

"Neal" he said quietly.

Neal responded obediently, ceasing to wipe his eyes. "Yeah"

"Would you talk to me?" Peter said smiling.

"I know I'm no therapist but at least you would be expressing how you've been feeling and then maybe.." He hesitated. "Then maybe, your nightmares will finally go away."

Neal looked up at Peter's wide eyes and goofy grin. He paused.

"Yeah" Neal said smiling. "Yeah.. I'd talk to you."

Peter squeezed Neal's shoulder tight. "Great!" he said almost laughing.

He was so excited by Neal's rather unexpected response. Neal wasn't one to openly express his feelings. Peter realized the touching sentiment behind Neal's words.

They both leaned back on Neal's bed, resting their heads on the smooth headboard behind them.

A slight grin began to form on Neal's face. "Where should I start?" He inquired, staring up at Peter, still smiling.


	13. Chapter 13

They started from the beginning. Neal told Peter everything. From his first day meeting Kate, to the last day, when he lost his chance to say goodbye.

Neal remained rather composed throughout the conversation.

A few times, if he touched upon a particularly unpleasant topic, his body would involuntarily shake. But Peter immediately calmed him down.

Peter didn't just listen, he truly engaged himself in the conversation as well.

Unlike a random therapist, Peter truly cared.

They talked for about two hours until Neal began to feel rather tired and exhausted.

"Neal, if you want, we can continue talking after ya get some sleep." Peter said, noticing Neal's condition.

"No, I'm okay" Neal replied. "I'm not even tired." Neal was refusing to let his body win again.

Also, he was beginning to actually enjoy their conversation.

They talked for about a half hour more until Neal's eyes began to close and his words began to slow down.

Neal was too exhausted to realize his current state. Peter didn't tell him. He figured Neal might involuntarily fall asleep.

Peter was right.

Neal's body had surrendered to its utter exhaustion.

Before long, Neal's eyes had closed and his head had fallen down onto Peter's lap.

He curled up into a ball and remained there, breathing rhythmically as he slept.

Peter reached over carefully, as not to disturb Neal, and pulled the covers over them both.

Leaning his head back on the headrest, Peter made himself comfortable, before slowly shutting his eyes.

He didn't mind staying like that all night. No matter what, he was never leaving Neal's side.


	14. You have a life here now

The next morning, Neal awakened slightly confused. He didn't remember falling asleep, yet apparently, he had.

Perplexed, he immediately tried to remember the events of last night. It was slowly coming back to him when suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by an unusual noise coming from the kitchen. He glanced over to his right, only to spot Peter, leaning over the kitchen counter, hands moving busily.

Suddenly, Neal could smell a sweet scent radiating from the kitchen. Yes, that was June's Italian Roast for sure.

He rubbed his eyes, attempting to clear his head. He was tempted to call out to Peter, but thought it would be better if he got his bearings first.

He remembered talking to Peter last night. _But what had he told him? Had he told him only vague details? Had he lied to him? _Suddenly a thought struck him. _Had he actually told him everything?_ That couldn't be true.

He had never discussed matters so personal with anyone in his life before. And if you had told him just a few years back that he would disclose such information to an FBI Agent, his handler nonetheless, he would have had no choice but to laugh out loud.

But Peter..was different. This he knew for sure. When he talked to him, he didn't feel like he was being interrogated or pressured. It was just like talking to a close friend. Kind of like Moz, he chuckled to himself, but sans the paranoia.

There were two sides to Special Agent Peter Burke. The no nonsense, by the book, faithful agent, assuaged by the considerate, thoughtful, and dependable friend.

He smiled at the agent who seemed to be fighting a loosing battle with a hot frying pan and some splattering batter. He laughed to himself. Peter never was the cook of the Burke residence.

Slowly, he shifted his position so that he was sitting up on his bed. He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to look a bit more put together before announcing his presence.

"You know," he began slowly. "You might have to arrest that batter on assault and battery charges." Neal stated matter-of-factly, a smile threatening to form. "Hmm, but you'll have to risk your handcuffs getting all sticky. The choice is really up to you."

Suddenly his partner turned around and grinned at his smirking friend.

"If it isn't sleeping beauty himself? Good morning to you too."

Neal chuckled slightly, grin still in tact. "Aw, Peter. I'm flattered."

Peter rolled his eyes theatrically before taking a seat beside Neal on the bed.

"So, you feeling any better?" He asked, worry lining his hopeful tone.

"Much. Thanks for asking."

Peter nodded slowly before clearing his throat. For some reason, he felt it was necessary for him to bring up last night. He didn't particularly want to, but he certainly didn't want Neal to feel uncomfortable about it. Peter was a very direct kind of guy. He felt no need to shy away from this.

"Good. That's good." "But, Neal.."

"Hmm"

"I know you weren't really okay with talking to me last night. Some issues are just personal. I get that. I just wanted to help. But you can always talk to me. Honestly, whenever."

Neal waited for a moment before responding. "Thanks. That really means a lot."

"Yeah" Peter continued, lightening his serious tone. "And for what it's worth, I don't think this Adler creep is worth loosing any sleep over." Neal attempted a forced chuckle.

Peter paused for a moment to bring a comforting hand to Neal's shoulder.

"I know you miss her, bud. But you can't dwell on the past. Kate wouldn't have wanted that. She would have wanted you to be happy."

Neal looked up at Peter slowly. He was starting to feel emotional again. Gosh, why did this keep happening?

"Neal, you have a life here now. A good one. One that's your own. One you can be proud of."

Neal let his words sink in for a moment. He was right. Peter was truly right. Neal knew he couldn't keep living his life in constant fear of the past. That was behind him now.

Suddenly, he felt a few tears gather in the forefront of eyes. He quickly resisted the urge to blink, worried the stealthy drops might betray him.

"Yeah" he replied, his voice slightly shaking. "You're right. The past can't control me forever."

"Exactly, Neal." He patted the younger man on the back lightly. "Exactly."

Peter stood up and walked over to the kitchen.

If he saw Neal wipe the tears from his eyes as he turned away, he certainly didn't mention it.

"Now" He said, turning around to meet his partner's one of a kind grin, "how about some relatively edible pancakes?"


End file.
